


First Snow

by cowboykylux



Series: Medieval Knight Kylo AU [9]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Domestic Bliss, F/M, Married Couple, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winter, Wintertime, past angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25053364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: He hates it, winters. You know this, but you're determined to change his opinion of the season. Kylo sighs, entirely too dramatically, and you know you’ve won, for he is walking now, tugging you along by the hand, out into the field where the castle children have already begun to laugh and play.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Series: Medieval Knight Kylo AU [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537318
Kudos: 21





	First Snow

You’re standing on the edge of the castle hall, looking out into the great expanse of pillowy white, when Kylo turns to you with a frown.

“Must we?” He asks, and you smile softly at him, giving his hand a squeeze.

Earlier that morning you had suggested a romp in the freshly fallen snow, for winter was a most joyous time that gave reprieve from the brutal summers of the kingdom. This was the first snow of the season, and you had all but immediately sprung out of bed and donned your red velvet kirtle, the one lined with fur from the elusive snow fox, imported directly and specially just for you.

Kylo had nearly dragged his feet getting himself clothed and ready for the day, crown freshly polished and placed atop his head with care, placing yours ever so gently on too. He had taken so long in fact, that he had managed to stretch the time all the way until your stomach was rumbling, when he eagerly suggested breakfast.

But breakfast had been eaten, and the great hall had been cleared out, and the two of you were standing side by side, overlooking the fields which were once bright spring green, then had faded to brown straw, and which were now coated in a thick blanket of snow. 

And still, Kylo hesitated.

“Yes, I command it.” You say, a teasing twinkle in your eye which fades when his frown does not go away. “What’s wrong my love?”

“It’s just.” He begins, and stops. Shifts his feet, adjusts his grip on your hand as he tries not to sour your mood with his own, “I have naught but poor memories of winters so harsh as this. The terrain is dangerous and the conditions lethal, for a man and his horse who have no home.”

You hum in understanding, eyes sad and downward cast. Things were so good, so so so good for the both of you since the events of last year. But that did not erase all of the bad that had happened for so many years prior, so many years of Kylo on the move, on the hunt under the hand of a man who sought nothing but power through him.

Well, you think, moving to stand in front of him, stepping off the stone floor and onto instead the hard crunch of snow, he shall not have bad happen to him again, not while you’re here. 

He looks at you concerned when you sink an inch or two or three into the snow, but you pay it no mind.

“Listen when I speak these words: my darling you are a nomad no longer. Never again will you need to worry about the white which falls and sticks to the ground, for you have this castle and this kingdom – and this woman as your wife.” You search his gaze, those brown eyes filled with such a heat that it’s a wonder winter came at all, pouring all his love into yours. 

“I am afraid it is easier to be said than to be done.” He whispers, but he takes a step forward to meet you in the snow, and you smile just the smallest bit when he sinks an inch as well.

“May I have one chance to show you the wonders of winter?” You plead, not overly pushy, but wanting to at the very least make your offer known, “Just one chance, one day, to attempt to shed light upon the greater joys of snow?”

Kylo sighs, entirely too dramatically, and you know you’ve won, for he is walking now, tugging you along by the hand, out into the field where the castle children have already begun to laugh and play.

“You are insufferably sweet sometimes – do you know this?” Kylo asks you as you loop your arm around his in the fashion which you have adopted as being the only true way to walk with your husband.

“I do, but tell me anyway.” You tease, cheeky and adoring, as you rest your head on his shoulder, the two of you making your way through the snow.

“You’re awful, terrible. Cunning and charming are a treacherous mix, and my queen, you are a fatal balance of both.” He laughs to himself, just a quiet chuckle that has your love blooming in your chest, especially when he tugs on your hair playfully and says all too quietly, “No wonder you and winter get along so well.”

“You speak as though there is personal vendettas against you from Father Frost himself!” You can’t help but laugh at the way he hates the season so.

“How do I know there isn’t?” Kylo counters, bending down to scoop up some snow between his gloved fingers.

“Because,” You drawl, letting him pick up some more of the snow, letting him feed it to you, letting the cold melt on your tongue as you suck on the fingers he stuffs in your mouth, “My liege, you have survived every winter you have come across. Surely that must mean something. The cold has yet to claim you, and with this fortress and my love you shall never succumb to its clutches.”

He sighs, and nods, and suddenly you are running away from him, your velvet cape billowing behind you. You unclasp it from your shoulders and Kylo scrambles to chase you and catch it so that it might not touch the frozen earth, worried that it would chill you to the bone – until you flop down onto the snow yourself, arms and legs spread wide, waving back and forth like you’re some great fallen bird.

The children see you, and they laugh and come running, all of them falling as well, mimicking the movements of their queen whom they adore so dearly.

“What are you doing?” Kylo asks, when he catches up to the small display of you and your subjects, all grinning like loons from ear to ear.

“We are making ourselves angels of snow!” You explain, hoping that such a vision would bring some joy to his face. You stand after a moment more, and point to the print left in the snow from where your body has disturbed it, “Look, look how it appears as though these are my wings.”

“That is very clever.” Kylo admits, smiling against his better judgement.

But how could he not, when the children are rushing to stand too, helping you brush the snow off of your kirtle?

“Would you like to try?” You ask, holding one of his large hands in both of your own.

“No, my dear please, you’ll grow chilled.” He deflects, to a great big sound of complaint from the children.

“It is a good thing my handsome husband runs hot, then, is it not?” You ask, biting your lip.

“(Y/N).” Is all the Kylo says, undeterred by your soft eyes and beautiful charm, eyes which grow sharp when you decide to not push your luck.

“Fine yes yes yes, alright.” You  
say, before gasping and pointing just beyond the horizon, “What’s that – over there!”

Kylo whips around, and has his sword drawn immediately, searching for the threat which has startled you so. But he grows confused for he cannot see anything, there is no one charging towards you, no one which should –

And then he feels the _thump_ of cold on his back, and lets his shoulders sag slightly, sheathing the sword back in its place, and turning around to complain, only to have another soft _thump_ of cold hit his chest.

You and the children have balled up small projectiles of the snow, and are lobbing with poor aim at his body. He finds that he isn’t angry, how could he be? No, he is – for the first time – feeling rather playful in the snow himself.

“(Y/N)!” He exclaims when another ball of snow hits him square in the face, sending the children all giggling and hiding behind your legs, especially when he begins to scoop up the largest ball of snow you’d ever seen and stalks menacingly forward with, “You’re truly going to get it now.”

“Kylo!” You shout and laugh, laughter ringing high up in the air as you run away from him as his very own projectiles, ones which could never be so big if crafted from your own hands, “Wait Kylo that’s no fair!”

“Children, help your king!” Kylo asks playfully, and you gasp in mock surprise when a few of the castle children rush to his aid, and an all-out battle begins.

It is through winning this battle, through having the snow and the ice melt on your bodies as you run round and round one another in the great white field, that Kylo begins to understand why winter is your favorite. With the joy that games like this can bring, and the safety of the castle walls surrounding you, he finds it easy to relax the tension in his back, his shoulders, finds it even easier to pull you into his arms and kiss you before the whole of the kingdom, kiss you like you’d never been kissed before…

Before you dump snow down the back of his tunic and he’s off chasing you once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the prompt:
> 
> Anonymous: Maybe medieval kylo always hating the winter, particularly the snow, because once he left the kingdom it was harder for him to go about his rugged life but his queen loves it and tries to convince him how lovely the weather is!


End file.
